Good and Proper
by Kelcat
Summary: Anders pulls one stunt too many and Nate decides it's time he learns his lesson.


Fill for a kinkmeme prompt that I actually begged for because I needed to write something with these two that wasn't fluffy. "What if Anders, being Anders, does something either extremely careless or pulls a prank that ends up causing trouble. Nate is pissed at his constant flippant attitude and starts giving him the cold shoulder. Anders tries very hard to get back in his good graces and somehow or other Nate winds up spanking Anders good and proper (which of course leads to sexy-times).

* * *

Anders was reclining on the settee in the Keep's library playing with Ser Pounce-a-lot when Nathaniel appeared in the doorway. "So," the rogue glared at him, "do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Dangling one of the ties to his robes in front of the kitten, Anders looked up at Nate bemusedly. "As far as—oh! You mean the lyrium thing?"

"The lyrium _smuggling_."

"Well, technically _I_ wasn't smuggling." Anders grinned. "I was merely…distributing acquired merchandise."

Nate slammed the door as he advanced into the room, causing Ser Pounce-a-lot to yowl and make a run for cover. "This isn't funny, Mage," he growled.

Anders was still grinning. "Oh, come on. It's not like anyone got hurt or anything. And, it was for a worthy cause."

"What worthy cause?"

Anders winked cheekily. "Screwing over those bastards at the Chantry, of course."

Nathaniel scowled at him, and Anders could see he was clenching his jaw. "So, let me get this straight," Nate's scowl was deepening. "You convinced a Templar to steal lyrium from the Chantry in Amaranthine, bought that lyrium from him, then sold it to a group of maleficar at double the price. And you don't see what you did wrong?"

Anders huffed at that. "They were _apostates_, not—well, alright," he amended, thinking of 'Levyn', "_some_ of them were blood mages. But so what?" Anders stood up and wrapped his arms around Nate's waist. "It isn't right that the Chantry controls all the lyrium," he frowned, "controls all the _mages_."

Nate reached up and unwrapped Anders' arms, taking a step back. "Right or not, you can't just go around doing whatever you want, Anders." He sighed, rubbing at his face. "Your actions have consequences, and it's not right that other people suffer for what _you_ did."

That was going a bit far in Anders' opinion. "Who suffered?"

"That Templar that was helping you was just sent to Aeonar."

Anders actually laughed at that. "You really expect me to feel bad about _that_?" He shook his head, still chuckling. "There is now one less Templar running around hunting mages and dragging them back to the Tower—I should get a sodding medal for that."

Nate tried a different tack. "Alright, what about the fact that the Commander had to make a large donation to the Chantry to keep them from telling the Grand Cleric about all of this? Aedan told me they were threatening to have you sent to Aeonar too, you know."

Anders was surprised at that. "They can't do that, I'm a Grey Warden now! King Alistair himself allowed my conscription."

Nate lost his temper."So that's why you pull these stunts? You think the Grey Wardens are a shield for you?" He was practically shouting now. "Damnit, Mage, you can't keep doing things like this!"

Anders couldn't understand why Nate was so mad, but he figured he'd better try to diffuse the situation. "Alright, look," he said calmly, "Maybe I got a little out of hand this time—" Nathaniel snorted at that. "—and I'm sorry. I'll pay the Commander back, alright? Will that make you happy?"

Nate shook his head, frowning. "You just don't get it, do you?" He sighed. "I honestly don't know why I'm so surprised," he said, almost to himself.

Anders was a bit hurt by that. "Well, maybe you need to relax. If you stopped being so serious you might actually realize it's okay to have fun."

Nate stared at him for a long moment. "And maybe you need to grow up." He turned and walked out of the room without another word.

"Nate!" Anders threw his hands up in frustration. Maker, but that man could ornery. He flopped back down on the settee. There was no talking to Nate when he was like this. Best just to lay low for a few hours and try to stay out of his way. Anders knew Nate would get over it soon enough, he always did. It's not like this was the first time he'd done something that angered the surly rogue. Anders nodded to himself, confident that Nate would be back to normal by tonight.

Dinnertime made him rethink that assumption. He entered the dining hall and looked around for Nathaniel. Spotting him at one of the long tables he walked over and seated himself next to the man. As soon as Anders had sat down, Nate dropped his fork back to his plate and left the table—never once looking at the mage. Anders sighed, this was going to take longer than he thought.

After dinner he hid out in the library for a bit, reading a book he had found about the Tevinter Imperium. When the candles had burned down low enough, he headed for their room, figuring that Nate would be asleep by now. Anders felt sure the rogue would be in a better mood after a good night's sleep. And, Anders grinned to himself, if he could convince Nate he was really sorry they might even wind up having some good old-fashioned make up sex.

He reached the door to their room and turned the knob, only to find it locked. Sighing, he banged on the door. "Nate, let me in!"

Nathaniel's voice came back to him, muffled. "No."

"No? What do you mean _no_?"

"You've got your own room, Mage, perhaps you should use it."

Anders figured this was the equivalent of a husband being made to sleep on the couch. "I haven't slept in there for months, it's all dusty and cold," he pouted, hoping Nate would take pity on him. "And besides, my favorite pillow's in here."

Anders cheered silently as he heard the lock click. The door swung open and something white and fluffy was thrust in his face before the door slammed closed once again. Anders sighed and hugged the pillow to himself, resigned to spending the night alone.

Several days passed and things weren't getting any better. Every time Anders approached Nathaniel, the rogue would make excuses about having to be somewhere else. He even changed what times he ate his meals and volunteered for any job that would get him away from the Keep. Nate could be extremely stubborn when he wanted to, and Anders was starting to get frustrated.

He decided that Nate was going to talk to him about what was going on whether he wanted to or not. He waited until he knew Nate was in the training yard practicing his archery before heading upstairs to their room. Nate was at least considerate enough to leave the room unlocked when he wasn't in it, knowing that all of Anders' belongings were in there. He let himself into the room and plopped down on the bed, determined to wait for however long it took for Nate to come back.

A few hours later the click of the door closing roused Anders from the light sleep he had inadvertently fallen into. As soon as Nathaniel spotted Anders on the bed he turned to leave, but Anders had anticipated that and was up and across the room in a flash.

"Nate, please," Anders tugged at the rogue's arm, "you can't avoid me forever."

Nate let out a sigh, and for the first time in days actually looked Anders in the eye. Anders took that as a good sign. "I'm really, really sorry, Nate. Honest." He smiled playfully, "And anyway, we both know you're going to forgive me, so you may as well just give in now."

Nate glared at him, but didn't move away. "How can you be sorry when you don't even understand why I'm upset with you."

Anders took a wild stab. "Because I didn't tell you about it ahead of time?"

"No, Mage, that is _not_ why I'm upset. I'm upset because every time you pull one of your stunts everybody pays the consequences but you. You do whatever you want around here because you know you'll never actually have be accountable for your actions. And as long as you get away with it, that's never going to change."

Anders raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying…what? That I need to be punished or something?" He grinned.

Nathaniel looked up at him, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Maybe so."

Anders was getting a little anxious now. He recognized the look that Nate was giving him. It was the same look he had before taking down a group of darkspawn—fierce determination. And in all truth, Nate was a bit scary when he was like this.

Anders laughed nervously. "Alright," he knew his voice was shaking but he couldn't stop it, "you've made your point. I'll behave myself from now on, I promise."

Nate's gaze was steely. "That's not good enough, Anders, not this time."

He advanced toward the mage and Anders found himself backing up until his legs hit the bed behind him. "Wh-what," Anders cleared his throat, "what are you going to do?"

Nate chuckled darkly. "Take you up on your suggestion."

Anders stared at him blankly for a moment before realizing what he meant. "Now hold on," he held up a hand, "don't you think you're taking this a bit far?"

Nate ignored Anders' protests. "Get undressed," he said gruffly.

Anders cast his eyes about the room, desperately searching for some way to escape.

Nate seemed to understand Anders' intention. "You _are_ going to take your punishment, Mage. The more you fight it the worse it'll go for you. Now _strip_!"

Anders was starting to panic. He had been so, so wrong. Nate wasn't scary—he was downright _terrifying._ He had no doubt in his mind that the man would follow through with his threat.

Anders quickly divested himself of his boots and robes. Nathaniel looked pointedly at the smallclothes he was still wearing, and he removed those as well.

Nate took a firm hold of Anders' arm and spun him around so he was facing the bed. "On the bed, Anders," Nate growled, "hands and knees."

Anders hesitated a moment and Nate squeezed his arm. "Do it." Anders swallowed and scrambled up onto the mattress, his back to the rogue.

Being in such a helpless position was more than just a little unnerving. He could sense Nate standing right behind him and the fact that he had no idea what Nate had in store for him was worrying. Anders trusted Nate completely, of course, even now. He knew that whatever his lover had in store for him, he wouldn't take it _too_ far. But this was not, despite his best efforts to convince himself otherwise, a comforting thought. Nate had an air of fierceness about him right now that Anders had never had directed at him before. And Maker help him, it was actually a bit of a turn-on.

Though not enough of a turn-on to keep him from being slightly worried about what exactly Nathaniel was going to do to him.

He had his answer when he felt the first hard slap against his backside. Anders cried out, more in surprise than from the actual pain. But the next stinging smack banished the surprise and brought the pain to the forefront of his mind. _Maker!_ Anders tried to pull away, almost unconsciously, but Nate curled his free hand around the mage's hip to keep him from moving.

Two more hard smacks, first against one cheek and then the other. Nate seemed to find a rhythm, devoting equal attention to each side, and Anders lost himself in the pain of one slap after another, and another, and another. Anders had a new appreciation for the upper body strength that Nate had developed from using a bow for so many years.

Nate paused and rubbed his calloused hand firmly across what Anders knew to be reddened skin, scraping lightly with his nails. Anders groaned loudly and bit his lip, trying to keep from begging. At this point he didn't know if he would be begging Nate to stop or begging him to keep going because, Andraste's ass, he was getting _extremely_ aroused. Strange as it seemed, the pain felt _good_, and he was dimly aware that he was starting to harden.

Nate was still scratching at his over-sensitized skin and Anders desperately wanted to reach for himself, to find release. He had a feeling, however, that Nate would not like that—and that made it so very tempting. Keeping himself propped up with one hand, he cautiously moved the other to grasp himself and was instantly rewarded with a hard smack.

"Keep your hands on the bed." Nate's voice was gravelly and Anders recognized the desire in it. He realized that Nate was getting just as aroused by this as he was. Nate resumed his 'punishment' and Anders found himself arching up into each stinging slap, hands clenched tightly in the sheets, his rear rising up to meet each slap as it was delivered.

"Nate," he whined, worried he was going to come undone if the rogue continued. The smacks ceased, and a rush of cold air behind him told him Nate had moved away. Not much time passed before Nate return and Anders felt his hands rubbing his sore backside again.

He heard a rustling behind him which Anders assumed to be Nate removing his own clothing, and a few moments later he moaned as he felt an oil slicked finger press into his entrance, stretching him. Nate was taking less care than usual in preparing him, but Anders didn't care.

Anders groaned loudly as Nate clutched his hips in a bruising grip and shoved roughly into him. The feelings were so _intense_. Nate slid in and out of him, filling him, and each time he buried himself completely there was pain as he pressed against Anders' raw and burning skin. It was _perfect_.

One hand still clasping his hip, Nate curled the other around Anders' length. It only took a few strokes before Anders lost it completely, shattering as he cried out Nate's name. Nate had amazing self-control and he continued thrusting harshly into Anders even as the mage was coming down from his climax.

Nate's steady rhythm and long strokes were exquisite, and Anders was practically sobbing from the pleasure. He soon found himself hardening again, and began thrusting his hips backwards, encouraging Nate to go faster.

Soon enough Nate was pounding into him, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak. He gripped Anders' erection again and began pumping it in time with the snapping of his hips. Nate groaned loudly as he released deep inside Anders and soon enough the mage shattered for the second time, his groans mingling with Nate's.

Panting harshly, barely able to breath, Anders' arms finally gave out. Nate gently pulled out of him and flopped down next to him on his back. Anders draped himself over the rogue, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Finally able to breathe again, Anders pulled back a little to look at his lover. "Nate, I really am sorry," he said seriously, "I hate it when you're mad at me—and not just because you're damn scary."

Nate chuckled at that, and Anders continued. "I'll try to behave myself from now on. I can't make any promises that I'll never mess up again or anything," he smiled, "but I'll really try. Promise."

Nate smirked. "I suppose that will have to do."

Anders looked at him hopefully. "So…am I forgiven?"

Nate seemed to think about it for a long moment before nodding. Anders grinned and kissed him on the cheek.

"Besides," Nate chuckled, "I have a feeling this is a lesson you won't be forgetting any time soon."

That sounded ominous. "What do you mean?"

Nate looked at him, an evil grin on his face. "Let's just say it's going to be quite entertaining to watch you try to sit down for the next few days."

Anders groaned. "I suppose there's no chance of you letting me heal myself?" he asked hopefully.

Nate laughed at that. He reached down and squeezed Anders' backside, causing him to gasp. "Don't even think about it."


End file.
